Culimation

This is a 3 part story, written by three different people. Enjoy.

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I know indeed what evil I intend to do,
But stronger than all my afterthoughts is my fury,
fury that brings upon mortals the greatest evils.
Euripides

I have come here to impart a tale. To explain truth that she refuses to see. I have come as King, yet a beast of a man. Her eyes, complacent in our shared lie, will see the fiction she enacts with what is left. I am a stone, merely here as a solid guard against the void that I embody.

I will make her see.

This place will be a fitting end. The Gilded Coin, generally overlooked by anyone with more than a few coins to their name is where the tale will end. A permeating absence dilutes the senses, there is nothing but what lies directly before me. The door colorless, paint faded, a temporary barricade..

She must see.

A gun is a silly thing, so small and powerless when compared to what I am capable with bare hands, but it gets a point across much easier than a fist of any strength. All mortals fear the bullet, even the mighty pod pilots, so safe and secure in their capsules, when faced with a gun to their face even Brutor break down and cry. It slips easily enough from it's hiding place, station security really is a joke.
The door disappears, I am aware of four fleeting existences, only one of which I need. Three bullets and she is left standing before me, two long curved knives in her hands. For a second I am blinded, I know the emotions are replicated from something real, but the programmed responses are just as debilitating. She is a goddess to me, everything to me, again, replicated, from someone long dead. I shake the program from my mind, resolute in my purpose.

“You will see!”

I am screaming at her as the distance between us closes. She stares at me, minute sensors detect the tears welling up behind her eyes, not something that a normal man could ever possibly achieve. With her inches from me I strike my wife, the act sending a shock wave of physical emotion through me, holding on to my purpose I strike her again. She drops her knives, the tips driving hard into the wooden floor to either side of her. She sinks to the floor, her gaze never leaving mine.

“I am mortal no more. I am human, no more. I am your husband no more.” the screams come forth as the barrel of my gun is pressed to her head. “I cannot be what you want me to be. I cannot be what I had intended to be. I am but a shell, the cast off remains of something that once was. I once held on as desperately as you do now. I am here to free you! This, none of this real!” I indicate myself.

She continues to stare at me, tears flowing freely. It hurts to see her this way. It's painful to know that I am capable of hurting her, and yet my entire being continues to tell me that I love her. She doesn't understand, or maybe she does but can't bring herself to admit it. I will prove it to her, I will make her see. Her knives will prove to be perfect instruments. A sharp blade in hand, I thrust it deep into my chest and rip downward, a blast of heat issues forth from the heating unit directly beneath the skin causing her to flinch reflexively. I pull the hole ever wider revealing the machinery underneath, red fluid seeped from the wound, lubricants, oils, it didn't really matter what else, it was all synthetic.

“There is no humanity left to me.” finally her gaze turns from me. “Look at me!” I scream and increase the pressure of the gun. She winces, but her attention remains fixed, but not on me.

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Outside the tears of the station shed themselves upon the elaborate glass windows that looked towards the shipyard docks; the position of the sky confusing, distant lights and structures on the far side of the stations walls curving and encompassing the stations interior. The muffled cries and shouts had garnered Koshmarnaya’s attention upon entering the main entryway of his home above the bar below.

Kaiden, or Kosh as he had been known, placed his identacard near the door and stepped to the windows that overlooked the city. He placed a hand gently against the cool glass. The paths of water cascading down the side of the building arcing and tracing infinite lines of possibility and Kaiden let himself listen for a moment.

‘I’ve been here before.’ The thought trailed; far in the back of his mind he watched the rain, the only difference perhaps in their path.

He shook himself from his thoughts and focused for a moment on the pleading from the room that adjoined the great rooms’ foyer.

‘Sorrow.’ He could hear the voice of one lost and one who had forgotten what it was to live.

He stepped quietly towards the voices, his thoughts drifting towards the sound of the rain’s staccato beats upon the glass; a comforting repetition that embraced him as he slid the old wooden door aside, its dark gnarled look smooth to the touch and effortless to move he stood watching the act play out.

He thought of the construct before him, the man that in all ways was just that before him. Isaaik Morgan had defined himself upon the existence of his wife, and there she knelt, seemingly aghast at the steps through which Isaaik had found he needed to take.

It was the pistol that stirred Kaiden from his thoughts of Isaaik’s self, the barrel of the gun pressed firmly against the temple of his friend.

‘Friend?’ His hands had slipped unconsciously to his thigh holstered pistol, his long conservative coat a stark contrast to the brutality of the emotion that flowed in front of him. As he let the service sidearm slide free he spoke.

At least, he thought he did.

“Don’t.”

The round that he had charged and his command caused the person, the thing, or perhaps Isaaik himself to turn towards Kosh and there was pain in the biomechanics’ that bled before him. There was an emptiness between them and Kaiden could feel the traces of water that streamed above them, the second itself was unfolding, a muffled cry of protest and the ferocious retort of Isaaik’s pistol were but brief moments.

The flare of the gun and the sound occurred in unison with the projectile that traced past his head. Kaiden’s immobile gaze focused on the singular instant that was created and he had already emptied his clip of semi solid charges into Isaaik; the muscle memory of his past reacting apart from his thoughts.

There was an unexpected response, a look of amusement and shock from Isaaik that he had missed. The hand that had revealed his machinery traced the outline of the entry wounds and he gave a throaty laugh.

“Come down from the clouds little Knight…”

It occurred to Kosh that he might need to reload but he was already sparring with Isaaik their blows being exchanged with a force that implied lethal intent. The barrel of the pistol in Kaiden’s hand flared blue plumes occasionally, his thought of reloading slower then the act when it had occurred; Isaaik’s own blows were held off only by the warm metal of the weapons. Each a crashing and thundering strike that could shatter stone were it to land solidly.

Kaiden spun to avoid an arcing blow; the bloodied and torn flesh exposed the structure of bone metal beneath and tore through the side of the heavy, old wall. The arm holding the pistol lowered and reloaded, Kosh aware only of the distinct clack from the clip entering the old sidearm as he still moved to avoid the expected fire.

He felt the rounds. They rolled and flung themselves around the room, the machines rage the only difference between life and death, until they were once again closer, and the thick smell of iron filled blood off set by the nasally discharged gas of Kaiden’s pistol filled his senses. They fought quicker and harsher but the event was a blur of time. Kosh was vaguely aware of the shower and plume of red that would spark from Isaaik as he let loose small bursts in executed sequences and openings.

‘Did not Isaaik feel? Was he not alive by feeling such turmoil? Surely this must…’ The blow that his thoughts had allowed came fast and hard, his right ribcage shattering as the open palm slammed against his side.

Kaiden coughed and spat up blood, his right lung pierced by splintered bone he fell to his knees and took a painful breath the pain muted by the hollow clicking of his own pistol, the hammer falling on an empty and barren barrel.

Kaiden thought time had sped up, or perhaps it merely caught up; regardless he was aware of scorched carbon and a substantial metallic musk as he looked up into the barrel of Isaaik’s old projectile sidearm. He smiled he figured for the first time during the fight. It pleased him that he had been beat struggling for something worth fighting and saving.

Time slowed again and he saw the void in the machines eyes, blood trickled down the side of his mouth and he took another deep viscous filled breath, peaceful in his defeat as the flame sprayed his eyes, blinding and deafening him. He swayed on his knees and involuntarily coughed, the blood still sprayed from his mouth yet he saw nothing but the blinding white outline of motion.

‘Surely it was still raining…’

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Her thoughts were empty, hollow, as the core of each idea was stripped from it as it formed, only to be case aside as unimportant. There was motion, but she could not, or perhaps refused to acknowledge it. It was the rain. Endlessly striking the grand windows looking out upon the city engulfing their meaningless lives, it was dirty, the tiniest amounts of sediment deposited upon and eating away at the glass. Eventually, it would wear through, and the rain would seep in.

Vaguely aware of events happening around her, sharp noises, movement, something. All she can hear is the rain striking the window; the thundering drum beats consuming every moment of her awareness.

Something wet strikes her face, rain, no...something else. Warm and thick she wicks it away trying to gain her bearings.

‘Why is the rain so loud?’

She sees Isaaik, the man that she married so long ago. She remembers the day they met, the day he proposed, and of course the day they were married. Every detail, every moment, shared with the man she grew to love. Now she saw him as an engine of destruction, the nature of the sounds and his actions finally crystallizing into her awareness that he was an avatar of emotion; but a husk and no man.

Kaiden, the man who had come to mean so much to her, a simple man by many accounts, but beneath the genial joking she had found so much more. He was the anchor she clung to in her turbulent times, now he had become a part of who Isaaik had been when they first met. Now, having stood before the avatar out of devotion, concern or perhaps even something deeper; he was broken faced before with Isaaik.

The scene was already playing out, she knew, it would climax and time would unfurl without remorse or love. She saw the end clearly for a brief respite in time, Isaaik had always been jealous of the attention she showed to other men; none more so than Kaiden. Isaaik would kill.. She was the Queen time itself and her will would forever change the threads of fate.. If she did nothing, Isaaik would kill Kaiden, and then she would be broken herself, lost without her….

The rain stopped.

She would not let him, not anymore. Her body moved finally willed into action. Kaiden knelt before the machine, defeated and at peace. He had given his soul to save her, to spare her some amount of pain, either physical or emotional, it didn't matter which anymore, what mattered was that he cared.

The blood spattered from his lips gave his face a reddish hue amongst his otherwise pale complexion. His side coat heavy with blood as it left his body and yet his lips held a slight smile and his eyes reflected…. Forgiveness.

He looked amazing.

She reached out, for anything, she needed to stop this.
There was a flash of light, a sharp crack. And then everything changed.
Time stood still for one more brief moment, but eventually, she could hear the rain again. She glanced down, her hands still clutched the smoking instrument, they were burned, but there was no feeling, no sensation at all. Strangely, there was no pain any more. She smiled and felt her eyes haze.

‘I can let go now.’
She collapsed to the floor suddenly, the force of the round catching up to her and a swiftly growing scarlet stain edged around a torn hole in her stomach. She could feel a chill spreading upwards, she knew that something had been damaged, her nano-bots weren’t responding, the sudden realization of vulnerability caused her to smile.

Sounds became muffled; there were shouts and screams of orders. She felt a hand wrap around her torso, pressing against the growing wound with another hand. Letting herself come back to the moment she could see Kaiden’s soft eyes looking to hers as he held her, the last of his energy spent to stem the wound that had sundered the queen.

Isaaik too had knelt next to the two. Armed response personnel had large bore energy weapons aimed at him and he knelt ankles crossed, torn and broken hands above his frayed body. The thing that she saw smiled and his ring fell to the gore covered floor. The screams of the officers muted to his words as he looked into her eyes, “It is done. There are no more paths for us, for what I am to you.”

As the last words left his bloodied face he was subdued and shock-cuffed face down into the bloody mire and Sieesa found herself lightly cradling Kaiden’s head as she weakly slid her wedding band off and let the growing stream of life encompass and erase it.

The Fall of Kordat

The wind was hot and humid on Kosh’s face. Settling back down into the assault craft, he fastened his face plate back into position and looked down the crafts bay. His men were sitting, adjusting their Gravity Repulse straps and securing their gear as he would have expected. The optical read out from his visor listed their squad numbers and last names. A sudden buffeting jarred the craft and Kosh grabbed a hold of the nearby tie-downs to steady himself. The rest of the squad adjusted their weight and stood up to form a loose line, each checking the other from helmet to thigh holsters.

A thinner man in a grey jumpsuit and flight helmet worked his way down from the front of the craft. He approached Koshmarnaya and nodded, "We’re approaching the target drop zone. Five minutes until we’re ready to drop you, sir."

Kosh nodded and slid his fingers to the side of his helmet. He pressed a small series of buttons and his optics switched to interlink with the pilot’s satellite data. A thin transparent overlay was brought up in front of his eyes and displayed the assault craft’s position over the terrain. Its small icon streaked across a lush rainforest toward the outlines of a large city. Turning, Kosh stepped over to the rear of the craft. Finding the small panel next to the large vertical doors, he punched a large button and the doors hissed open. The dark warm night air flooded the bay and he knelt down to look out the rear of the plane, checking the approach with that of his overlay visor. He felt a gloved hand on his shoulder and turned his head. All of his men were in line behind him. Dark face plates devoid of distinguishing marks, they looked like twelve faceless harlequins, each an enigmatic and expressionless jester that only they themselves recognized.

Pressing his helmet’s command node once again, the overlay minimized and Kosh double checked his gear. A small timer counted down the few minutes they had until they were clear over the target. The dark moonless night was suddenly lit by a series of bright flashes from the dense ground cover. Scanning the ground, he could make out several large armored units exchanging fire. Mostly lacking in friend-or-foe identifiers, he could only count two remaining friendly units and each had initiated their overrun identifier. The crew chief that had spoken to him earlier had come to stand at the rear of the bay with them. Using a small rifle marker, he began tagging several of the green-gray armored tanks and spoke a few small words. The air above them was filled with four small streaks of light, each a fiery burst as the projectiles gained super velocity and slowed as they entered the atmosphere. A moment later, loud resounding cracks sounded and four large flashes left small craters where the defending tanks had once been. The craft rolled to the starboard as the city of Kordat came into view. Its lights dimmed as power was no doubt being diverted from the civic structures to power the large shield, occasionally arcing with power from a deflected shell or rail round.

Standing up, Kosh formed a three then a zero with his left hand. A sturdy tap on his right shoulder told him that his men were ready and the counter in his visor began the fast pace of clicks to zero. Anti-aircraft rounds shredded through the night around them. Obviously blind firing and unable to lock onto the craft’s signature, he made a mental note of where the points of origin were. He swept his left arm forward and stepped off the small ramp into the warm night.

The fall was fast as always, the gravimetric replusors kicking in a mere fifty feet above the canopy. It felt as if a large shell had hit him in the gut. The brief flash of energy that occurred when it activated was enough to show him he would come down safely and he braced for the landing that arrived a few moments later. Rolling on the ground, he unlatched the harness that kept the gravity device on. He then unfastened a small kit bag that held several pieces of equipment and a composite rifle, which he clipped onto a suit attached retractable sling. Looking around through the enhanced night air, he could see the other twelve members of his team nearby and merging on his position. Kneeling, he spoke, "Zero-four and zero-ten keep on our flank. The rest with me, it’s only three-hundred meters to the generator site. You are clear to engage any outlying sentries." A series of affirming responses clicking over the communication unit told him the order had been received. The rest of the team arrived on his position and he motioned them toward a small concealed building barely noticeable from the satellite feed.

Stepping silently forward, the group made its way the short distance until several men in combat fatigues could be seen talking near a tree roughly forty meters from their current position. The left most soldier lit a cigarette and took a long drag. A small rifle round perforated his throat, the heat from it cauterizing the wound. A small trail of cigarette smoke exiting the wound was the only tell tale sign that he had been hit. His partner turned to get a short glimpse of the attackers as his chest received the same swift fate. Rushing towards the structure, Kosh could see the rest of his men checking the surrounding walls to the tiny compound for any inbound patrols. A number of clears were given and his team formed behind him as they made their way to the main doors.

A pair of large carbide blast doors stood sealed to anyone lacking proper authorization. The soldier next to him, a man named Kayrik, rushed to the console and pulled a small device from his suit’s leg holster. It clicked and whined as he brought it to a few inches within the doors control panel, a series of red lights began flashing green and the doors slid open suddenly. A group of men in ad hoc combat gear turned, stunned at the sight of the eight man entry team storming the entryway. Their faces turned to horror as the lead man dropped his rifle and raised his hands in surrender, only to be put down with the same efficient lethality the perimeter had received.

Reaching a small T-intersection, Kosh unclipped two pulsating orbs from his suit and threw one in each direction. There was a blinding flash, and four men ran down each corridor. The seared and burned bodies of the people that had been down the corridors showed the effect that was invisible during the flash. Kosh reached the door that he had been looking for. It lay open, sparking from the electromagnetic pulse that accompanied the explosions. The control room before him was empty. The small hatch to the rear of the room had just been sealed, but through one of the blast windows he could make out a large number of civilians that had sealed themselves in the generator room of the complex. Disregarding them for a moment, he pulled one of the small devices from the kit bag out and set several icons on the device before attaching it to the main console that sat spewing out data and numbers to fast for him to comprehend. Once attached, it melted its way onto the console, fusing itself with the device as to make removal impossible.

Turning, he spoke again, "Target achieved. Withdraw to designated area and alert the craft for removal." Again a series of succinct affirmatives chattered back and he turned, heading out of the control room towards the hall. The sudden screams and profanities from behind the blast window garnered only a momentary glance from his obscured gaze before he stepped over the felled guards and made his hasty departure. Once outside, his team formed on him and they spread into the tree line. His visor showed that zero-two had already used the recall canister. Its small black figure emitted a pulse beacon that brought the deep thumping of the craft’s gravimetric engines. The sleek engines blasted the air around them with deep ripples of energy. The craft sat down amid the small clearing just outside the jungle line. He motioned for his team to board and he took up the rear, walking backwards as his feet hit the boarding ramp. He grabbed hold of a small hand rail on the inside of the bulkhead and interlinked with the craft once more, giving his all clear. The craft rapidly rose skyward, once again missing the barrage of tracer fire that sought to down his lifeline.

He watched the city get smaller as the craft sped away, a small blur formed where they had been. Just as quickly a dark sphere rose, only to implode the compound, leaving a small crater of debris. A blinding glare from the force field over Kordat cascaded in the night and illuminated the sleek hull of the craft for a brief moment, its sudden and glorious death scream sounding across the landscape above the trees. His visor automatically dimmed the bright light and he could see the sky alive with missiles from orbit. They arrived moments later, connecting with the city in vivid explosions and vociferous roars. He turned and entered the main bay, finding a small cargo net seat to sit in. He disconnected his face plate and sat back, running his fingers over the small embossed mark under his left eye. He smiled and fell gently asleep as the craft closed and pressurized to breach the darkness of space once more.

Ruthless Truths

You might ask why I implore those who work for me to feel sorrow for those things life demands of us, or, for that which we must do to survive. You might wonder why those who hold a true place within our organization are reluctant to step from the shadows and speak out when we have loyal supporters who would treasure their words. Perhaps the truth is simply that we have seen things that leave us changed. And while there are those within our organization who interpret such change as a mere excuse for our ruthless actions--actions that justify our attempts to live some semblance of sanity--I would tell you that we have seen beyond what most can fathom and we are guilty of wanting more--far more.

Sarito Ide - Domination, Counciler of Exploratory Projects

Ethereal Memories

"Are you sure you want to leave now without a shuttle?" the buildings attendant asked Kosh. "The net said it might rain in the lower wards where you're headed."

Koshmarnaya Akula smiled politely and turned to head out the door, pausing for a moment before heading out into the cities core.

"Its always raining somewhere."

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There were loud cracks in the distance. The sharp rebounds easy to differentiate from the pattering taps of the rain that fell everywhere that he could see. Occasionally he could feel the warm water cascading down his face as he blinked gazing skyward at some unknown deity that enthralled his muscles and kept him subdued.

A long arcing streak flew across the encroaching dusk and was followed by the high pitched whine of another larger but equally quick object in seemingly dire pursuit of the smaller star. He chuckled and felt water gurgle within his chest and attempted his best to dissuade himself from finding humor as he felt that the sound was probably not the best to be making in the situation.

’What was his situation?’ He thought suddenly and he attempted to sit up, using his arms to brace himself against the warm moist ground. Around him stood buildings of medium to small height, their features pocked with crumbling floors and exposed interiors. Chairs, sofas and other housing items lay strewn around the street, having obviously been thrown in the havoc that had encompassed their residences earlier at some point. Large black marks surrounded the craters. Their scorched being evidence of immense power upon impact. In several places Koshmarnaya could discern craters that had a smooth texture having been fused upon the impact of the ordnance.

Bringing himself to his knee now he heard a distinct staccato rhythm to his west and looked about to find weapon. Having no immediate luck he stood and attempted to run to a nearby entryway. His left leg sore and barely supporting his weight he began to limp at an annoying pace, letting himself take shelter behind a destroyed vehicle for several seconds before continuing to his chosen haven. Entering he found the ravaged kitchen of a family. Their bodies having been flung from the concussion of some weapon fired near they lay back against the wall facing the street. Turning to leave the grisly sight he stopped short of a small doorway as he entered the dorms main hall. An obscured figure made itself dominant in his vision and he reached towards his thigh, grasping for a non existent sidearm. The figure blurred by some distortion of his vision he attempted to squint to see clearer. The distance being small he stomached his hurt leg and rushed the thing to confront what obviously stood assessing him.

As he sped the best he could along the hallway towards the rear of the house he suddenly could see the smallish thing to be woman in black, simple clothes. As she looked up to him he stopped in his tracks and felt a small tingle rising at the back of his head. A voice not his own suddenly entered his thoughts, the rain a distant series of slow thunderous beats as he strained to hear what were obviously faint words.

"It’s always raining somewhere….."

With those discernable words his head was hit by a sudden pressure wave and he was blown down the hallway to the entrance of the house. His eyes dazed and blinded by drywall and debris he could hear the rain coming faster now and he felt himself loosing grip on consciousness. He struggled to get to his feet, the weight of something pinning his good leg he cleared his eyes looking to meet his attacker. The empty hallway was now adorned with large tears in the plaster that led towards his current position. The woman however was gone. With that recognition he felt the stab and sear of broken limbs and stuggled to keep his mind focused. His last thoughts faltered amid the rain and then there was nothing.

Sempkin - 005

Sempkin had this romantic view of war. He was one of those types who would pick a flower and wonder what had occurred to get him to that point in time. He wanted to write for the State someday; you know, those motivational pieces.

Sempkin died on the Lagos Moons. He rounded a corner and was obliterated by auto cannon fire. No flowers, no music, just a staccato retort of a burning maw of death.

There was a girl that he had known while we were stationed there. The fighting was brutal and gritty. Nothing like what you see in the Holovids these days; thousands of men thrown into dense corridors fighting tooth and nail, gnashing and gnawing to gain the upper floor of some tenement. She, this girl he knew, was only ten or eleven at the time. Her parents had been dissidents and had died in some God forsaken fight on a street no one knew. He took her under his wing and cared for her. He would save knick knacks that he thought she could use, I mean absolute slag and rubbish, but he did it for the "sake of doing something right" he’d always say.

Sempkin wasn’t soft as you’d think. He was just sentimental. He cared about each soldier in the Surface Force. He’d fight tooth and nail for anyone if he believed they were Human somewhere deep down inside our frail husks.

She turned us in to the dissidents and rebel forces. We had lived in her company and we awoke one morning to the sound of large bore artillery incoming. The girl was gone, the knick knacks left neatly piled on her bunk.

Sempkin refused to believe it. We evacuated the building under heavy fire. Our unit moved to a secondary line a few hundred meters behind the main line of our current engagement. It was on that last block that the heavy emplacement started to open fire. He just dropped, face torn open and blood sprayed the side wall like a orange being smashed by a mallet. Jenner was the first one to react, a well placed grenade crumpled the enclosed position and we moved safely back to the secondary line.

I often think about Sempkin, about how he died and the meaningless death that contrasted his view of war and people. It’s in those brief moments when I realize I died on that moon too. I just haven’t caught up with Sempkin yet.

The Space In-Between

Do you ever look into the black?
No, I mean really look. Do you stare into that space in-between the stars?

Koshmarnaya absently let his mind wander through the system scan. Numbers and hard results populated his conscious overview as he stared past the distant sun. The light from countless stars long emitted and cast towards him now just barely reaching his awareness.
The buffeting of his ships sensitive external sensors drew him back to the task at hand as the glaring alarms alerted him of the looming asteroid that began to obscure his sight. Willing the ship to veer starboard he brought the ship to a halt and swore an obscure phrase.

He was wandering again.

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He was home and he looked around the semi overcast sky. Here it was raining in a torrential downpour; shards of light broke through the cloud cover and lit the atmosphere. The glistening droplets cascading down on starched military uniforms created a distinct smell. The smell was singular; almost pristine in its quality to the senses. One didn’t run from class to class, one enjoyed the rain.

One savored it.

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Missiles were tearing through one of his engine decks. His ship slowing to a crawl as the reactor energy spilled out into the void in a twirling particle cloud. He began to assess his current damage on the target and was satisfied he would come out the victor of the conflict as long as he sealed the surrounding decks in time. As the bulkheads began to seal and confine the possible doom, his craft lurched with its own torpedo salvo as it began its deadly journey.

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He was rapped on the back by a traffic cop who was trying to move the bodies from the intersection. He had taken his family for a walk in the park; his job at the State Services department having closed earlier that day due to holiday. He thought it a rare treat and had watched with great glee as his young boy lurched towards the park pulling his mother in tow. They had sprinted, not seeing the large freight craft that shuddered past the intersection ignoring the display signs that had warned it was not safe. Anger was his immediate response, but now, looking down at the accident scene he felt a never ending sorrow. The officer that stood in front of him as he turned had a kind demeanor and was speaking. Kosh couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, the words blurred and slow, he didn’t flinch as he clumsily drew the officers carelessly unlatched weapon and brought it to his temple…

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Koshmarnaya shook his head, the overlay on his readout blinking as he activated power transfer couplings. Countless crew began redirecting and assisting the computer as it struggled to comply with the constant stresses that the ship was tormented with. It occurred to Kosh that he was in no shape to fight and that it might be futile, but he brought the wings of the craft in a steep roll and edged between the rocky debris.

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There had always been a time; he thought from his composite rocking chair, that he had wished he had made different choices. Looking out towards the clear night sky he felt a sense of awe and bewilderment. His life had been mundane even by prudish standards and he often felt that he would have liked to explore the universe that stretched out from his backyard. The calm gentle breeze licked his wispy hair and he smiled. He thought of some angelic benefactor and wondered if he would have found love in the void, a family perhaps? What of honor? He leaned back and sipped a drink, the warmth of the beverage cooled his thoughts and he sighed with a relaxed demeanor as he drifted asleep.

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It was only now, that he lost his ability to target the small cruiser that he began to consider the possibility that he was outmatched and outwitted. Koshmarnaya Akula let the order to abandon ship travel around the ships systems as he struggled to control the internal workings for a few moments longer. The fire from the refitted bridge area had already engulfed the on duty crew and he struggled in the fluid trying to keep his mind and thoughts focused. The fire was licking at his shell when the main observation shutter failed and the cabin was depressurized, suffocating the flames but spilling violently the crew that he had only known for a few moments it seemed. Kosh turned to observe the escape pod display blinking with activated compartments.

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He had no idea why he loved the stars so much, but it was that love that had brought him to space in the first place. Not qualifying for military assignment or state science, he had packed a bag when he turned eighteen. The lure of the stars grabbed him and took him into the hard dark. He had no regrets as he lived his life, making passage from cargo ship to port. Seeing the sights of the different peoples, different cultures and customs he had found himself yearning to see what laid beyond the charts. This fascination had kept him busy, he saved and scrimped as he tried to afford a small one manned craft. It was of great joy to him when he finally could afford such a vehicle and years of food and energy. He had set his ship for the most distant star known to his people and let the system take over. It was here that he now found himself. The inky depths of the outer reach still sparkled faintly. Little points of hope, and as he set in his ships autonav for the galactic axis at which he looked, he wondered what he’d find when he awoke.

He pushed the button and fell asleep.

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He could hold on no longer as his body lost control, the vacuum began to breach his confined area and he knew that the small explosive charge was only a moment…

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The young boy stared at the sky from his classrooms window. The deep purple of the night edged and traced the infinite stars. His teacher continued to lecture on the advantages of understanding the relation between macro and micro economics, but he couldn’t really hear him.

For it wasn’t the stars that fascinated the young boy…

It was the space in-between them.